


Something Shared, Something Shattered

by karuvapatta



Series: Loki Really Wants To Bang His Brother AU [3]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brotherly Love, First Time, M/M, Pre-Thor (2011), Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:32:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karuvapatta/pseuds/karuvapatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor tries to deal with the unexpected influx of incestuous desires. Loki isn't helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thor

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably make more sense if you read the previous installment of this series but--oh, who am I kidding, it will make exactly as much sense. Enjoy!

"You look good, brother," Loki said.

Thor smiled at his reflection. There was no point in denying the truth. The new armour fitted him very well indeed. It was ceremonial, way too light to be of use in an actual fight, but Thor didn't expect to have to raise anything heavier than a mead-filled horn tonight.

His good humour evaporated the moment his eyes met Loki's and Thor found himself frowning. Loki was already dressed in his favourite colours, black and green and gold, the armour suiting him perfectly. He looked polished, elegant, every inch the prince welcoming foreign dignitaries. But different thoughts gnawed at Thor's mind: they used to do this together. And as of recent Loki began rejecting his company, drawing deep inside his own shell.

Thor remembered exactly what caused this change in Loki. The memory was a hot one, never far from the surface of his thoughts; whenever it slipped into focus Thor found himself reliving that moment, and the same heat pooled in his belly.

"As do you," he said with a crooked smile.

Loki dismissed the servants with a polite nod. Thor opened his mouth to protest, as he wasn't yet done. Some of the decorative pieces needed adjustment, as did his red cape. But his brother silenced him with a short glare, stepping right into Thor's personal space.

"Let me," he said.

His clever, nimble fingers made quick work of the various clasps and buckles. Thor swallowed when Loki's knuckles brushed his throat, trying to mask his discomfort.

"Did you lose your helmet, Loki?" he said.

"Don't start."

"I'm serious. The Vanir deserve to see you in all your finery, do they not?" Thor waggled his eyebrows. "Of course they might mistake you for a cow…"

"Have you seen a cow recently, Thor?" Loki said acidly. "Cows don't have horns. Certainly not ones as majestic as my helmet. You are thinking of goats."

"No, because I happen to like goats," Thor said. "Goats are nice to me."

"Probably because they mistake you for one of their own," Loki said.

Thor's retort died on his tongue. Loki's cool fingers wrapped around his hand, first adjusting the vambrace and then the shirt that peeked from beneath it. His movements were sparse and sure and yet still felt like a caress on Thor's overheated skin.

He froze and tried to calm his breathing. His brother's downturned face lent itself easily to inspection. It was pale, finely sculpted, with sharp cheekbones and dark eyelashes, and the perfect arch of eyebrows. Thor knew that Loki was very particular about grooming them and wasted no chance in teasing him about it.

Loki looked up, his bright green eyes meeting Thor's, and went completely still.

"What is it?" he said stiffly.

"You know what," Thor said, swallowing. "I—"

"Thor," Loki said. "Leave it."

It was simple, when you put it like that. But Thor couldn't. No matter how hard he tried to banish the thoughts from his head, he could still see his brother's pink lips stretched around his cock.

What _have_ they done to each other?

"You are a fool if you still think about it, Thor," Loki said, shaking his head irritably. He resumed working on Thor's armour but with none of his previous grace; just short, jerky movements. "One might think you've never had a lover do this for you."

"So are we lovers now?" Thor said.

It ought to worry him, how easily the word rolled off his tongue. He would never admit it, certainly not to Loki, but he liked the sound of it: soft, breathless, intimate. And it didn't suit them, he knew it didn't. Loki knew this too, because he flinched.

"You have interesting perversions, brother," he said.

"You began it," Thor said, yanking his hand out of Loki's hold.

"But you didn't stop me," Loki told him with childish obstinacy.

Thor glared at him and fixed his own sleeves. They were still dangerously close together but right now he didn't even want to breathe the same air as Loki. Irritation turned out to be an effective remedy against lust, and his brother was shaping up to be a perilous combination of both.

"I will see you at the feast," he said and stalked out of the room, catching Loki's smirk out of the corner of his eye.

***

The celebrations didn't disappoint. Thor sat down at the table with a strong intention of not getting up sober and was steadily working towards his goal.

Nevertheless, he kept sneaking glances at Loki. Each time he did he cursed himself profusely and downed his horn. Mead soothed his mood like nothing else did. Certainly it served him much better than the serpent-tongued green-eyed nuisance of a little brother.

He found an even more effective distraction in the form of a dark-skinned Vanir maiden with the sweetest voice. The feast had shed all pretence of formality at this point: some weak-headed boys were snoring under the table, the mead flowed generously, the bards were singing bawdy songs and the higher royalty had vacated the Hall. Luckily, because Thor could avoid his mother's appalled gaze while the maiden drew him forward to dance.

Dance, and then more. She giggled, tugging at his hand, and led him behind a pillar. Not a lot of privacy but Thor highly doubted anyone was sober enough to care.

Her name was Dagny. Soon enough she would be initiated as a Sorceress and a Seer, and devote her life to the secret workings of the universe. For now, in the loud, crowded hall, she was eager to devote herself to Thor.

Her mouth was hot and insistent; her body was soft and pliant. Thor breathed in the scent of her heavy dark hair and went light-headed with lust. He drew her closer to him and she went willingly, smiling at him.

"Shall we retire to the guest chambers, my lord?" she asked breathlessly.

Thor opened his mouth to say yes. It would be a fodder for gossip, no doubt, but his reputation could hardly suffer for it. And she was beautiful, clever and full of life, everything—except.

Except her eyes weren't green. Her smile was wide and open, and not small and secretive. The pleasure he felt when holding her was simple; it didn't burn him the way he now knew it could.

Thor stepped back.

"Forgive me," he said. "I would, truly. But—"

He watched the fire die in her eyes, replaced by a resigned expression.

"There's another?" she guessed.

Thor nodded. Rejection was never easy to handle. He wouldn't try to soften it with convoluted explanation and placed a simple kiss on her knuckles.

"She must be very special indeed," Dagny said, remarkably calm. "To have tamed the mighty Thor."

"My lady, whatever you have heard about my reputation is probably exaggerated," Thor said, biting his tongue. If you believed the rumours he jumped into every warm bed he saw and—he didn't. Not usually. Perhaps sometimes.

"Yes, I can see now," she said. And then surprised him with a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Don't keep your lady waiting."

"I won't," Thor said, and then went to find his brother and wring his neck.

***

Loki had excused himself earlier, as was his habit, and was not stalking the corridors, no doubt planning some mischief to bestow on their drunk, unsuspecting guests.

"Loki," Thor growled.

The mead was still spinning in his head. He couldn't seem to concentrate on more than one thing at a time and his thoughts swirled sluggishly together. But there was Loki, caught off-guard, staring at Thor with a quizzical expression.

"I thought you were enjoying yourself, brother," he said.

Thor pushed him back. They were alone, but it would matter little if they weren't. Because, no, Thor _hadn't_ been enjoying himself. Thor was tired of the confusion and the games and, not for the first time, he had the source of his troubles within easy reach.

"Undo it," he demanded.

"Undo what?"

"Whatever you have done to me."

Loki stared at him, wide-eyed. "I haven't done anything! Honestly, Thor—mmph—"

Thor kissed him fiercely, pressing him against the wall. Loki grappled with him but once it was obvious the direction he was going for was _forward_ and not _away_ , Thor paid little mind to his hands and focused on his mouth.

His mouth. His soft lips. His clever tongue. The tiny whimpering sounds he made when Thor kissed him just so.

He released Loki and found him boneless, clinging onto Thor and breathing harshly. Thor didn't let him out of the tight circle of his arms, for fear that Loki would topple over.

"Undo it," he repeated, resting his forehead against his brother's. He was going to have a killer headache, he could feel it. "I can't go on like this, Loki."

"It's not my fault," Loki said, determined not to meet Thor's gaze.

"Then whose fault is it?" Thor said, boiling with rage. Loki was so close he had to kiss him again, seeking out the warmth of his lips like a man starving. "It's you—always you—"

Loki pushed him away.

"Oh, _really_ ," he hissed. "No, Thor, I don't think this is what happened. I think you are so used to getting you way, your ego cannot handle rejection. You want me just because you can't have me. And you know it."

Thor felt like he had been slapped. He stared at Loki, at his beloved little brother, and his throat went dry.

"Is that how little you think of me?" he said.

"Is that not the truth?" Loki shot back.

"Damn you, Loki."

He stormed back to his room and passed out as soon as he hit the bed.

***

A week later, late into the evening, Thor walked into his chambers and found Loki sitting on his bed.

"Norns, brother, put some clothes on," was the first thing Loki said.

Thor glared.

"Last time I checked these were my chambers," he said. "I can walk around naked if I want to."

Besides, he had just taken a bath. And what was this to Loki, anyway? They had seen each other very little over the past few days, for which Thor was grateful. His judgement was still clouded with a mixture of rage and lust whenever he laid eyes on Loki.

"Well, now you have a guest," Loki said. "And trust me, not all of Asgard in interested in your nudity."

Thor tossed aside the towel and casually walked the length of the room. He then stopped before Loki and put his hands on his hips, noticing smugly that Loki's eyes kept drifting downwards and that he began to blush.

"It's nothing you haven't seen," Thor said. "So? What is _this_ part of Asgard interested in?"

"Yes, well," Loki said, clearly distracted.

He was freshly bathed himself, Thor noticed. From up close he could smell the distinct floral aroma of Loki's favourite bath salts. His damp hair curled at the nape of his neck and he was wearing an embroidered black dressing gown fastened over his green nightclothes.

" _Loki_."

"What?" Loki's gaze snapped upward. His embarrassment was palpable. "Oh. Well. I'm here with a solution to our little problem."

Thor blinked at him. His mind went back to the outburst in the corridor – he was the one to storm off but they were both at fault. He could hardly blame Loki for his indecent desires—well, no. He _could_ blame him for acting on them so brazenly, back then during their hunting trip. But only Thor had trouble putting this behind them. Perhaps Loki really was guiltless, for a change.

But if Loki had found some way to cure him of these thoughts—"What is it?" he asked, eager for anything – a spell, a potion.

"I want you to bed me," Loki said.

That was certainly unexpected. " _What?_ "

"You wanted me to undo it," Loki explained. "I figured we could just—get it over with. And then it'll pass."

"No," Thor said. "Have you gone mad? You are my _brother_."

"I can recall at least two occasions on which that little fact didn't seem to bother you," Loki said coldly. "Did you grow a sense of shame when I wasn't looking?"

"Shut up," Thor said.

The worst part – the horrifying, humiliating part – was the way his cock twitched at the idea.

"Oh," Loki said. "At least _some_ portion of you hasn't changed its mind."

And then he started undressing.

Thor watched, horrified. Loki took off his clothes in a perfunctory, self-conscious way, stubbornly avoiding Thor's gaze. The dressing gown slipped from his shoulders and he pulled off the silk green shirt, careful not to mess his hair in the process.

He had pale, slender chest, with clearly outlined muscles. His long fingers brushed his stomach and then he hooked them on the waistband of his trousers.

"Stop," Thor said hoarsely. He was—he was half-hard, just from watching Loki do this, even despite his obvious reluctance. It was true he had thought of little else recently, but in his fantasies Loki was somewhat more enthusiastic.

"You wanted to see me," Loki said, red with embarrassment, his voice pitched high. "Then _look_ , brother. No-one's stopping you."

Thor seized his wrists. Loki fought him, predictably, and fought dirty: he had no choice as Thor surpassed him in both strength and mass. He winced when he felt Loki's sharp teeth biting his shoulder and his knee aiming somewhere at his groin, but thankfully managed to wrestle him down onto the bed before the blow had a chance to land.

"Stop it," Thor said, panting. Below him Loki was also out of breath, flushed red and angry, hissing like an offended cat. Thor's hard cock was trapped somewhere between them.

"Damn you," Loki said, surging up. "Damn you to Hel."

His mouth landed on Thor's clumsily, but the kiss that followed was anything but. Thor still heard obscenities and insults lobbed at him between kisses but it was hard to get offended when Loki caught his lower lip between his teeth and bit him there.

"Quiet, you," Thor said anyway, capturing another kiss. It warmed him, honey-sweet and too brief, even though it lasted long enough to rob them both of the ability to breathe. Loki's hands tangled somewhere in his hair, pulling him down, and he hooked his legs around Thor's hips.

"I hate you," Loki said viciously, soothing the sting of the words with open-mouthed kisses to Thor's jaw.

Thor snarled. Now he could look at Loki, properly look, and saw an expanse of skin, well-known and well-loved, marred with scars he could name the origin of. He longed to leave his mark on every inch of it, with his mouth and his fingers, so that Loki would never have reasons to doubt the depth of his desires.

He began with the side of Loki's neck and drew from him shocked, mewling noises that spoke straight to his groin. He thrust forward and his cock slipped on the silky fabric of Loki's trousers.

"Loki," he said, kissing him again, trembling with the effort of holding back. Thor was no stranger to lust, not for many years now. But there was some different force at work here, urging him on, and the pressure of it was something new entirely. It was the build-up of a storm, and Thor knew all about storms – they could only be waited-out and weathered, never contained or controlled.

He shivered. Loki was beneath him, his eyes wide-open. He was still hesitant, unsure – and Thor had a clearer idea why.

No, there was no use in pretending. He was possessive, every bit as flawed as Loki made him out to be. But his heart leapt with the knowledge that he was the first one to see Loki like this. His brother _trusted him_. For all his lies, deceptions and forcibly maintained distance, Loki truly loved him.

_He was the first. And he would be the only._

The thought arose in some dark corner of his mind and brought dread in its wake. It was the very same bloodlust as his berserker rage, terrifying and unstoppable, rendering Thor as helpless as his enemies before him. As helpless as Loki was now.

He kissed him, but in truth he had no choice. He could no more stop kissing Loki than stop breathing.

"Loki," he said, forcing himself still. "Brother."

"A bit late for that, wouldn't you say?" Loki said, and _laughed_. Joyous, carefree. "Come here—I won't break—"

"Stop," Thor said, holding him down.

"What?" Loki said, finally focusing on Thor's words. "What's wrong?"

Thor looked at him, and once he began he couldn't stop. He had never thought of Loki as beautiful – in truth he would probably get punched in the face for the very idea – but ran out of other words to describe him.

"If you're going to change your mind, do it now," Thor said, his voice low and guttural.

Loki shivered, but for all the wrong reasons. "Hmm, brother," he said, dropping his eyelashes with well-rehearsed naiveté. "Would you ravish me against my will?"

Thor growled and kissed him, latching his mouth onto the nearest part of Loki that presented itself. Just so that he could avoid a question he dreaded the answer to.

Loki took his enthusiasm in good humour, with a hum of approval and then a startled moan when Thor massaged his cock.

"That's—ah," he said, wide-eyed. "Thor…"

His silky voice, his mouth forming the syllables of Thor's name – that nearly undid him. He stripped off Loki's trousers one-handed, tangling them in Loki's long legs, and had his hand properly on Loki's cock before his brother could stop laughing at his clumsiness.

He had never done this with a man. But he knew his own body well enough, and figured Loki's couldn't be much different. It certainly didn't take long for Loki to arch into him, his shoulders and heels dug into the bed.

"Thor," he gasped, hands fisting into the sheets, grasping for something to hold onto. " _Oh_."

Thor rutted mindlessly, grinding their hips together. If his mind wasn't currently on fire, he would think of something more effective; if Loki wasn't whimpering like a man dying, he might think of something clever. But they were just rubbing off, seeking friction wherever they could, their cocks sliding together.

It was even better when Loki collapsed, boneless, and Thor could get his cock between his sweat-slick thighs. Loki caught on quickly and urged him on, tangling his hands in Thor's hair and whispering straight into his ear – nonsensical phrases, Thor's name, confessions he would later be ashamed off. His voice was broken, punctuated with chocked sobs when Thor brushed against his spent, oversensitive cock.

Thor buried his face in the crook of Loki's neck, inhaling the scent that was exclusively _his_. Sweat wasn't enough to ease the movements of his cock but he didn't care, thrusting forward, humping Loki and trembling with it. He wanted—needed— _more,_ or maybe _everything_ , and he wanted the pleasure and the pain of Loki's nails digging into his skin, and the sound of his moans, and the scent of him, and his face—

"Thor," Loki breathed, while Thor shuddered and came.

They lay together afterwards, trying to catch their breath. There was a mess between them, semen clinging to their skin, the sheets completely ruined. Thor cupped Loki's cheek and kissed him, afraid of the moment when they would have to part. Maybe they never would. Maybe they could stay like this, forever, tangled in each other.

Loki, of course, ruined everything.

"I want a bath," he announced.

"Shut up," Thor groaned.

"Is it always this messy?"

Thor sighed and pulled him into an embrace, hoping to soothe Loki's fidgeting by brushing his hair.

"Yes. Now be quiet."

Miracle of miracles, Loki shut up. He seemed to be pondering something, though he made no move to dislodge his head from Thor's chest.

"Is it over now?" he asked. "Do you feel different?"

_Yes_ , Thor wanted to say. _I have just bedded my little brother. It's not something that can be conveniently forgotten._

But that wasn't the question. And Thor knew, with a bone deep certainty, that the proper answer would be even worse.

No. No, he still wanted Loki. With his hunger satiated, he wanted him in a hundred different ways, exploring every corner of whatever it was they had discovered between them.

"Thor," Loki said. "Do relax. It'll pass. We just have to give it time."

Thor kissed him again, just because he knew he could, and that his affection would be reciprocated.

***

Loki sneaked into his room every night for the next week, and then for many weeks after that. It didn't pass.


	2. Loki

There was something immensely satisfying about watching Thor fight.

Especially – and Loki smirked – if the opponent was new to Asgard. Or, like Sigurd, had been away for the past century. There were always these poor fools who thought Thor's fame was unwarranted, or perhaps the result of him being the heir to the throne. Certainly there was a fair amount of flattery involved but, in his brother's case, there really didn't need to be.

He watched with a tight-lipped smile as self-confidence slipped from Sigurd's face. There was a moment in every match when Thor's opponents fully realised what they were up against and it was glorious to behold. Loki wondered if Thor knew he was destroying them mentally long before his inevitable victory. And if he enjoyed that knowledge.

There were other enjoyable aspects, too: Thor's long blonde hair, his gleaming muscles, his easy grace. Loki envied him with every fibre of his being, and admired even more.

Of course _he_ would never be this strong, this fast, this powerful. No, glory of the battlefield wasn't meant for Loki.

"What's the matter, brother?" he said, once Sigurd was forced to admit defeat. "You were awfully sluggish today. Perhaps you shouldn't have gone this deep into the cups last night."

Sigurd stared, first at Loki and then at Thor, with pure horror. Thor beamed and Loki felt a sharp jab of vindictive pleasure. No-one ever tired of reminding him that he was second to Thor; well, Loki would make sure they wouldn't forget that so was everyone else.

"It was a good fight," Thor said brightly, clasping Sigurd on the shoulder. "We should spar again, if you're willing."

The brothers retreated to the private dressing chambers near the training field. Loki was familiar enough with Thor's routine to hand him a jug of water and then step hastily back as he splashed it on his head.

"Another," Thor said.

Loki complied, watching his throat work as he drained the next jug. He could feel the heat emanating from Thor's body and see every drop of sweat on his bare skin.

Thor set aside the jug. They were alone in the small chamber, Loki leaning against the wall with feigned nonchalance. He tried to keep himself from shivering when Thor's eyes settled upon him.

"I don't recall us drinking last night," Thor said.

"Would you rather have me tell him the truth?" Loki said. "I do so admire your stamina, but I doubt anyone else will."

He kept his gaze bold and challenging, even as Thor crowded him against the wall. Fighting always dulled his sense of self-control and made him more prone to be led by his base instincts. And Loki had access to those.

"Do you remember, then?" Thor asked hoarsely. He went straight for Loki's hips, sliding his hand beneath Loki's garments.

"Remember what?" Loki said softly, smiling. "Me, writhing on your cock, _brother_?"

Thor growled and kissed him, rough, possessive. His hold on Loki's hips tightened to the point of pain.

Right then and there, Loki could almost see why people did that. He had spent years not fully understanding the appeal of carnal pleasures that seemed to rule everyone around him. It took time to spread rumours about his supposed preference for men, and it was well worth it. As it turned out, it was considered more acceptable to desire the forbidden than nothing at all.

But, oh. Here he was, at the receiving end of the intensity of Thor's emotions, and it felt wonderful, like warmth spreading throughout him. He kissed back, with growing desperation, his body responding to Thor the way it didn't towards anything else. It ought to worry him, how much of himself he had based around his brother; but how could he not?

Thor looked at him like a man starving. Thor touched Loki as if every inch of him was worth his time and reverence. Thor knew all manners of things about Loki, and loved him despite them.

Thor would probably fuck him right now, if permitted.

"You should bathe," Loki said, breaking the kiss. "You are covered in dirt and sweat, this is not very appealing."

"One day, Loki," Thor said and sucked a kiss to Loki's neck. "One day, I will toss you to the ground and have you like this. And you will love it."

It was an enticing vision, he had to give Thor that. And the worst part was, he probably would. He tried to picture this, Thor pushing him roughly down, spreading him in the dirt, claiming him under the vast, open skies that were his domain. And Loki would allow him, thrilled to be the sole focus of Thor's attention, a conduct for forces beyond his understanding.

"We would make quite the spectacle," he said instead.

"I wouldn't mind," Thor said. He put a proprietary hand on Loki's thigh and pulled it up, hooking it around his hips. "Would you?"

Loki gasped when their cocks brushed together, even despite the layers of clothing. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Thor thrust forward, again and again.

"You know I'd do anything to be yours," Loki crooned, only half-joking. "Dear brother."

Thor shivered, as he always did when Loki used this endearment while they were wrapped around each other. He still liked to pretend it didn't excite him. As if he didn't enjoy being Loki's everything.

"Come find me," Loki said, whispering hotly into Thor's ear. "And you can have whatever you want."

That was an interesting new twist on the game of hide-and-seek they used to play as kids. Loki slipped from Thor's grasp, with ease born of years of practice, and disappeared. And, once he allowed himself to be found, he was showered with affection and love that made his heart ache.

***

"I've been summoned by the Queen," Loki said.

"Of course, your highness," the steward said, bowing.

Loki stepped into the open chambers that were the administrative heart of Asgard. While the Allfather bestowed wisdom and judgement from the high seat of Hliðskjálf, in here the more mundane decisions were being made: the storage of food and provisions, the state of the armoury and stables, trade with foreign lands, bedding and chambers for every inhabitant of the palace…

"Loki."

"Mother," he took her hand and kissed it. "You wished to see me."

"That I did. We have much to discuss. But not in here," Frigga rose from her seat at the head of the table. In this very instant so did everyone else. "Do forgive me, my lords and ladies. I will not be long."

The warmth of her smile instantly made Loki feel like a boy again, safe and loved and wanted. He offered her his arm and together they stepped into the bright sunlight and the balcony beyond.

"Are you well, Mother?" he asked. "You seem tired."

A wry smile pulled at her lips. "Honestly, Loki, I was rather hoping for some well-worded flattery, no matter how unfounded. You have always excelled at it."

"Mother," he said, indignant. "I swear to you, I have never paid you a compliment that would be anything but sincere."

"Oh, that's more like you," she said brightly.

Loki shook his head. "You look radiant, as always," he said. "I am simply worried about you. The threat of war in Álfheimr—"

"The threat persists, as is its habit. Do not concern yourself with this, my son. You father will handle the situation. And, if Fates are kind, no war will threaten you in your lifetime."

"That would have to be an extraordinarily short lifetime, judging by the history books," he said.

Her delicate hand tightened its grip on his forearm.

"Please do not make such jokes, Loki," she said, very softly. "At the very least not in my presence."

"I will not," he promised with some unease. It was common knowledge that Frigga was a Seer, and that she would never speak about her visions. For a brief moment he had to wonder what it was she saw in his future that troubled her so.

But the day was too lovely for such grim contemplations. They sat together at the fountain, surrounded by greenery and delicate Elven sculptures that looked out of place next to Asgard's splendour.

"What is it that you wished to talk to me about, Mother?" he asked eventually.

"I meant to ask if you have considered my proposal," she said.

"To go to Vanaheimr?" The queen could always read him easily, but still he struggled to keep his voice calm and neutral.

"This is home to the art of seiðr that you love so much," she said, running her fingers over the shimmering surface of the water. "And my sister has invited you to study it."

"I am honoured by her invitation," Loki said, choosing his words carefully. "However—"

"Your heart lies in a different place," she finished for him.

Loki knew his mother well. She could lie better than even he did, if the situation called for it. In truth her ability to make any conversation partner feel at ease was masterful, and her feigned smile unparalleled. Now, however, as she studiously avoided his gaze, certain suspicions began to bloom in his chest.

"Is it about Thor?" he asked calmly.

She exhaled, soft, tracing patterns on the water. "It gladdens me to know you and your brother are close," she said, picking her words with care. "But, Loki, I wish you weren't quite that close."

Oh. How wonderful. The obvious unease in her voice drew a bark of mirthless laughter from his throat.

"So this isn't an educational trip as much as it is banishment?"

Her rage caught him unawares. " _No_ , Loki. Asgard is, and always will be, your home. But I believe a certain time of separation would do you and Thor a world of good."

"Did you speak to him about it?" he said, losing a battle against the bitterness that flooded his tongue. "Or is the fault so blatantly, obviously _mine_ that there's no need to consider other options?"

"There is no fault to speak of," she said. "Please, my son. Consider giving yourself a chance to spread your wings."

He was too agitated to stay still, burning with shame and humiliation. Their little secret, apparently, proved too much to conceal. And if Father found out—no, he would not be as kind.

Perhaps it would be for the best.

"Why not speak with Thor, though?" he asked, giving in to the rage, to the injustice of it. "Why not him, _mother_?"

She had gone pale, and Loki immediately regretted the harshness of his tone.

"I was hoping that, out of the two of you, you'd be more inclined to listen to reason in the matters of the heart," she said gently. "Thor is prone to being ruled by his emotions. And you have a great influence on him. My son, surely you recognize the fallacies of your relationship."

Yes, their relationship was built on mistakes and poor judgement, a childish inability to distinguish between two very different kinds of love. Loki recognized this. Thor, were he not blinded by lust, would also recognize it.

There were confessions he wanted to make, lodged deep inside his heart, longing to be screamed at the top of his lungs. He loved Thor, as he would never love another. Mother was right, but she was also very wrong. It wasn't the circumstances that pushed them together. It was just Loki being, on some fundamental level, broken.

"You are mistaken in thinking I have any influence on Thor," he said, coldly. "But if it will please you, Mother, I will leave."

Perhaps for the first time in his life, he was fed up with word games and her soothing lies. He therefore walked away, pretending not to hear her call out his name.

***

A decade had passed since the last time Loki was home.

His steed and a phalanx of Einherjar were sent to escort him from the Observatory, but he dismissed them, preferring to walk the length of the Bifröst in solitude. After the green rolling hills and the lush landscape of Vanaheimr, Asgard was a magnificent sight indeed, and it took his breath away.

It hadn't changed, remaining true to its name: Realm Eternal, untouched by the tides of time that presided over lesser lands. The shining crown of Yggdrasil. It stirred something inside him, feelings he had tried to bury under layers of rage. A sense of beauty and wonder.

Thor welcomed him with open arms, in some ways bigger and brighter than Loki remembered. For all his objections to their separation, the way he buried himself deep in Loki's body on the eve of his departure, pressing kisses and promises into his skin – it was a brother he was greeting now, not a lover.

Loki had expected that. Mother wasn't wrong, not about Thor. The fires of his passion burned bright but, with nothing to fuel them, were bound to die out.

No, Asgard wasn't changed; Loki was. Everywhere he looked, he saw familiar faces but with strange new eyes. And they have noticed this oddity about him, or perhaps forgot how to hide it. Once again they had the other prince, the second prince, not-heir and not-leader, and no-one quite knew what to do with this knowledge.

So Loki put his training to good use. He knew patience. He wrapped the shadows around him, and watched, and waited. And, with every day that passed, grew a little colder.


End file.
